67. Mira

sixty-seven

Mira

Just as my knees begin to buckle, my vision fading around the edges, there's a sudden burst of energy in our bond. It's not Tairyn, his presence is almost absent now, nor Callum, who is lost somewhere in the swirling storm of souls.

No, it's me.

The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Me. Sucking in a sharp breath, I call upon that strength, pulling it through the bond and into myself. It gathers in the pit of my stomach, a ball of wild energy waiting to be unleashed.

With ferocious determination, I lunge forward in a frenzied attack, unleashing a torrent of white energy that pulsates with blistering heat. I gasp at my own power, thrusting it deeper against Yurghen, pushing his darkness back.

The swirling vortex of tormented souls draws nearer and nearer, screaming and shrieking toward the channel of white light. But Yurghen remains motionless, completely unfazed by their presence.

I hold my breath as they barrel towards him, emotional energy leaking from the swirling storm of lost souls like fiery anger. It twists and turns, barreling closer.

If there's one thing I've learned growing up in the south, tornados are no joke. Distantly in my head, a song from my youth plays, reminding me what to do when a tornado catches you unaware outside. Get low, Get low, Get low.

With a last flash of attacks, I spare a blow for the ground below, creating a small divot for me to huddle in. I throw myself into the makeshift ditch and cover my head as the vortex swells around me. The wind howls in my ears so loud I can barely finish the lyrics in my mind.

To the windoooooooowwwww.

Ok, stop.

The roar of a thousand voices echoes overhead, a chaotic symphony of past, present, and future. I hear the desperate cries of lost souls seeking hope, the whispered plans of parents dreaming of their children's futures, and the haunting melodies of those consumed by despair. This is the essence of life, all its beauty and pain colliding in a deafening crescendo. And this is what we fight for, the chance to keep living amidst the chaos and find meaning in it all.

Once the storm passes me, I peek over the edge of my shelter. The tornado is gaining speed, barreling towards Yurghen. A gap in the chaos becomes visible, and he turns his focus towards the souls. With a vicious cry, he unleashes dark magic that knocks out hundreds at once. The lost souls scatter and dissipate like a mist. As if drawn to the sound, the demons of the Underworld descend upon the incapacitated souls, consuming them with ease.

"No!" I scream, all the air in my body leaving me. Taking no time to recover, I clench my teeth as I heave myself back to my feet.

My grip tightens on the last drops of Chroma, my only hope for survival. With a guttural scream, I channel all of its power mentally with both hands, just as Tairyn taught me. A blinding beam of white light explodes from my palms, piercing through the darkness and striking him directly in the chest. The world stops spinning and everything falls silent as the vortex abruptly stops, winds dying into a gentle breeze. Victory pulses through my veins as I watch him falter.

Yurghen's eyes widen in shock as he turns to face me. He staggers backwards, as something milky white leaks out of his mouth, his ears, his eyes.

I gasp in shock.

It's working.

His soul is leaving his body.

Yurghen stumbles another step. And another. His soul seeps out from his pores, drifting away from his body.

The beady eyed pixie hesitantly approaches his friend, now clutching his chest. The life in his eyes is fading away. I have no magic left inside me, so I grip the handle of my dagger tightly, prepared to engage in close combat with this creature. But then, to my surprise, he turns away from me to look over his master.

I gasp as the little mouse-like fae grabs his own knife and plunges it into Yurghen's chest.

He falls, lifeless, to the ground. A plume of dust wells up in the surrounding air. I can barely process what is happening. Yurghen's limbs are limp, his body separated from his soul that now floats away, and I catch a glimpse of the little fae scurrying away with a seemingly self-satisfied expression on his face.

High above, the rift in the sky begins to close, drawing in the remaining souls. Those ethereal warriors bravely fend off the few remaining Underworld demons and herd the souls back towards the Great River where they belong.

In my peripheral vision, I see the light around Yurghen's body stir. His spirit floats, not up to the great river but sideways towards something else. My heart races. What if he has another Vessel waiting for it?

A malevolent demon from the depths of the Underworld swoops down, its razor-sharp fangs snatching the vulnerable soul in its jaws. With a guttural growl, it devours the essence whole before vanishing into the earth, pursued by a relentless ghost warrior.

Just as the demon disappears, the warrior stops before me. He's tall and lanky, eyes like piercing blue diamonds.

"Vessel." His head bows in respect. To me. My jaw drops. "My name is Rynlin, Guardian of the Otherworld. Congratulations on the impossible."

With another subtle tip of his head, the warrior zips off to chase another demon. I shake my head, unsure what to make of that interaction, when my eyes catch sight of Tairyn barreling towards me down the street. His face alight with joy. Behind me, Callum stirs on the ground as Bobble comes into view around the corner, supporting a limping Sunder. Relief floods through me - we made it. Against all odds, we're alive. The air hums with the energy of our shared victory, and I can't help but let out a grateful laugh.

In the distance, I can hear jubilant cheers and melodic singing. The Guardians of the Otherworld, having successfully chased off the demon, now herd the lost souls back to the sky. The citizens of the city are celebrating as the spirits are returning to their rightful place. Their loved ones and ancestors have finally found peace and will be reborn for another lifetime.